All Grown Up
by Kris21xX
Summary: Disowned by her family and rejected by her lover, Christina finds herself alone and pregnant... at seventeen. Still only a girl but needing to mature into a mother, she finds help in the most unexpected place. John/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Hi so here is my new story. It's been in my head for along time but I'm just getting it up. Thanks to Rated-R-For-Randomness for betaing this. **

**Disclaimer:I own nothing except my Oc and the baby…and the general idea.**

**Please Read,Review, and Enjoy…Let me know what you think about this story**

_"One can pay back the loan of gold, but one lies forever in debt to those who are kind." - Proverb, Malayan_

_**June 2006...**_

"Please... let this be over soon."

I groaned, but kept my hand firmly placed palm down over my protruding belly. The gesture did little to quell the distress that seemed to be growing inside of me. It was just a continual reminder that these past few months had truly been real... and that my life was going to soon be changed forever. Whether it was for better or worse had yet to be seen, but at the moment, all I could think about was the constant pain. The reason for all of my physical and mental strife was kicking inside me and wanting to come out.

I was about to become a mother... _at__the__age__of__eighteen._

With my free hand, I nervously played with the fringed sides of my backpack while looking around the waiting room. Anything to pass the time and get my mind off of what was happening... and _what__had__happened._ My eyes immediately locked on a young girl clinging to an older woman's hand. She couldn't have been over the age of three and yet her irises held pure terror in their cerulean depths. The towheaded child started tugging on the appendage in her grasp, babbling about something I could not hear. The scene was enough for a wave of nausea to hit, but luckily I knew that there was nothing in my stomach to purge.

My eyes quickly left the child and moved to another couple. The man and woman must have both been in their seventies if not older and seemed very frail, the man hacking every couple of moments into his handkerchief. The woman was pressed against him, whispering into his ear while running a hand over his shoulders. She seemed to be soothing him - comforting him for whatever Hell he was about to face beyond those white doors.

I leaned back into my chair and closed my eyes tight as another contraction hit. My hand dropped from my bag and clenched the leather armrest so hard I knew that there were probably crescent shaped punctures in the material. At that moment, my one wish from the past months came floating back into my mind... _I__wish__I__didn't__have__to__do__this__alone._ No matter what ailment had befallen the elderly stranger across from me, at least he had support... and _love._ Those two things were lacking in my life, and I was unsure as to what that meant for my unborn child.

I took a deep breath very slowly through my nose, as my teeth were clenched in response to the pain. I held the air in my lungs for a moment before letting it out gradually. I didn't have any type of pregnancy or childbirth training. I had no idea what to do or how to prepare. I never went to an OB/GYN aside from the initial visit when I discovered I was pregnant thus I didn't receive any follow-up care. If not for a former co-worker, I wouldn't have received any prenatal care. She was a mother of three and was able to give me a few bottles of prenatal vitamins. The rest was seemingly in God's hands.

As I continually tried to block out the pain of the contraction, I felt a gentle touch on my arm. The contact was enough to startle me and I jumped away slightly. My eyes slowly opened as I tried to calm my body enough to focus on anything other than the pain and the almost born child inside of me. I blearily blinked my eyes at the man squatting in front of my chair. His serene blue eyes pierced through the pain and gave me a sense of comfort. A total stranger was doing more with one look than any friend or family member had done during my nine months of pregnancy.

"Ma'am, are you okay?"

The contraction had subsided and the pain in my abdomen was ebbing away. I sighed and loosened my death grip on the armrest, bringing my hand to rest over its twin on my stomach. I gave the man in front of me a weak smile and nod, unsure of how to respond to his act of kindness. It wasn't something I had been accustomed to during my pregnancy, but I appreciated the small gesture. It was enough to prove to me that there was still some decency left in humanity... no matter what my recent past might have suggested.

Without the pain, I was able to get a better look at the man still crouching in front of me. His open three-quarter length baby blue button down shirt brought out the hue of his steely irises. The white undershirt clung to his strapping form, as well as the dark jeans that hugged every muscle perfectly. He was definitely a welcome distraction from the...

_Pain!_ Another contraction shot through me and the flesh under my hands hardened in response. I cringed, my eyes falling shut once more as my left hand once again sought the comfort of the leather arm. Instead, my flesh came in contact with a warm, comforting hand. I squeezed hard and gritted my teeth as the pain radiated further than it had ever before. I knew for sure that this truly was the day my child would be born. I had already suffered through three false labors and was happy that this was finally it.

My grip on the warm appendage lessened slightly as my breathing helped calm the pain, but I was scared to let go. It had been so long since I had any comfort and was not ready to let this go. I felt his thumb lightly trace circles on my knuckle, as if he had read my mind... as if he was telling me that he wasn't about to break the hold. The pain centered in my lower back and I tensed up once more. I heard the man mumble something before standing, his hand never releasing my own. A moment later, I felt his warmth next to me, his shoulder brushing against mine.

The pain subsided as the contraction ended. I breathed deeply before opening my eyes, while my fingers straightened allowing the man to let go of his grasp. Yet he didn't. He continued tracing patterns with his thumb, doing everything he could to soothe my aching body. I looked over at his now seated form, too tired to be too inquisitive into his motives. I was more thankful than concerned or curious at the moment.

"You're going to be okay, mama," he said gently, his rich baritone voice soothing me almost as much as his tender touch. His lips perked into a small smile, his cheeks slightly dimpling in reaction.

"I'm..." I started weakly, my throat raw and my situation overtaking my emotions. "I'm not so sure about that."

He chuckled and was about to reply, but my death grip on his hand must have stopped him. The sharp pain returned and I fought to keep my eyes open. His eyes were a much better comfort than the darkness of my own eyelids. They fluttered, but never fully shut and I was able to get lost in the ocean of his irises. The duration of the contraction seemed much shorter than the last few, but I was unsure if it was accurate or just because of my companion.

"Christina Chambers?"

I perked up at the sound of my name and looked toward the white double doors leading to the innards of the hospital. For the first time since sitting down, I raised my hand from my swollen stomach and gestured to the nurse. The older, heavyset woman smiled and directed the attendant to my chair. The man rolled a wheelchair in front of me, raising the foot rests so I could fall into the chair easier. After an hour of waiting in this room, I was finally going to be leaving.

_I was going to be a mother._

As the attendant continued to fix up the wheelchair, I tried to rise from my seat. It was hard to do in my condition and the _slight,__constant__pain_ that I was feeling. Luckily, the man next to me noticed my difficulty and rose, using our entwined hands to pull me into a standing position. I smiled at him, reaching down with my free hand for my backpack on the ground.

"Is the bag for the baby or both of you?" the attendant asked, as he helped my kind companion situate me in the wheelchair. My hand slipped free from the blue eyed stranger's grasp and I had to try my best not to frown. _At__least,__I__had__some__comfort__for__a__little__while._

I looked down at the ratty, old, sea foam green backpack and slightly blushed. There was no way I could admit the truth of my situation, at least not now... not with _him_ in earshot. I tried my best to smile and turned to the older gentleman.

"It's for both of us," I replied, holding the bag against the bump of my stomach.

The nurse came over and rattled out some information to the man as he began to wheel my chair away. I glanced briefly into those deep blue eyes once more before concentrating on the white door in front of me. My hand subconsciously found its way underneath the bag and settled on the bump of my stomach once more. It was the only comfort I had left.

"Sir, are you coming with her or..."

"Um... excuse me," I spoke up, as the nurse nearby spoke to the blue eyed man behind me. She turned her gaze to mine and I shook my head. "He's not the..."

"Yeah, I'm going."

I stiffened in my chair, my eyes growing wide at the low voice that interrupted my own statement. Holding my hand in the waiting room was above and beyond the duty of being a gentleman. Actually, continuing the kindness... was quite _startling__and__odd_. Yet before I could even think to interject, my body was racked with pain from another intense contraction. I gripped my bag tighter, my knuckles turning white as the pain felt worse than when I was sitting in the other chair.

"I'll catch up with you all later," the blue eyed stranger said as he returned to my side.

Through my half-lidded eyes, I saw that his gaze fell behind me and I figured that he must have had companions with him. I realized that I didn't even know why he was in the hospital in the first place. He didn't seem ill or injured, but it's not like every ailment could be seen with the naked eye. Yet I really didn't know anything about him besides that he seemed to have a good heart.

"Dude, I think you are taking the practice of _kissing__babies_ to an extreme."

His friend's retort was met by a few cackles of laughter, but I was truly oblivious to it. The double doors were pushed open and the attendant wheeled me inside and started me down a long, cold hallway. I saw a few nurses chatting, a doctor with a clipboard walking purposefully to a room... everything felt so sterile and uniform. I didn't feel any presence beside me as the wheelchair continued its journey down the white hallway, but thought maybe he was just lagging behind.

We turned a corner and I was met with the metal doors of an elevator. The pain had receded and I was able to focus once more. My eyes darted from side to side as the attendant hit the "up" button and stepped away from my chair. He made no effort at communication and I was content at that. I focused on the doors in front of me and stared at the slightly distorted reflection.

There were only two figures reflected back and a frown made its way to my lips. _It__was__too__big__to__dream__that__he__would__have__actually__came,__wasn't__it?_ I shook those thoughts from my mind. After all I had been through, I was not going to become dejected at the fact that _a__stranger_ was not there to hold my hand. It was ludicrous to even fathom that that emotion could even be felt. His friends had probably convinced him that it was a daft decision and I couldn't blame them in the slightest.

The chime dinged signally the arrival of the elevator compartment. As the doors slid open, the attendant returned to his position behind the chair and wheeled me inside. The compartment was empty and he turned me around so I was facing the doors once more, making it easier for us to exit upon our arrival at the designated floor. He hit the third floor button and the doors slowly slid shut. Yet before the two sheets of metal could converge, an arm shot through the small opening. The doors slowly opened and the edges of my lips perked up.

Pain shot through my abdomen and I let out a small squeal as the pressure was becoming too hard to handle. The man quickly rushed into the compartment and detangled my fingers from the green canvas they were clutching. Fabric was replaced with flesh and I sought his eyes as the elevator began to make its way up the two stories. It was hard to pay attention to the awkward inappropriateness of this situation when my body felt like it was being ripped apart. And truth be told, I wasn't _the__best_ when it came to _common__sense_ in the first place.

The elevator halted, the dinging noise coinciding with the doors opening. Another white hallway that was too cold to be comfortable. I shivered from pain and being chilled as I was wheeled down the hallway and into the Maternity/Pediatrics wing of the hospital. Pushing through the cherry wood doors, we entered another white (but this time _teal__accented_) hallway. The nurses at the desk smiled and called out a room number and I was quickly wheeled down the hallway.

Room Number _3011_ was my final destination and I stared at the white linen bed in fright. I had felt the uneasiness of giving birth many times over the past month. With each false labor, they grew worse and worse. Now, actually being here, my apprehension came back harder than ever. Yet at least I wasn't alone as I had originally planned to be.

"Christina Chambers, right?" a brunette woman asked as she came up alongside my chair. I peered around the massive muscular form beside me and nodded with a small smile. "I'm Isabella and I am going to be the attending nurse for your delivery. We are going to get you all set up and situated so the doctor can take a look at you, but first I need you to get into this."

The nurse held up a standard medical gown and placed it on my lap. She took the bag away from my bump and placed it on a chair nearby. The original attendant flipped down the foot rests allowing my feet access to the floor. With some help, I was able to stand and waddle over to the bed. The nurse pulled the curtain around the area to give me privacy. My last contraction had subsided, but I knew I had likely less than a minute before another one arrived. I quickly peeled off my oversized tee and unlatched my bra.

I looked down at my exposed protruding stomach, knowing that the next time I saw it, it would be much flatter. I ran my fingers lightly over the stretched, hard skin and sighed, thinking about what the future held for the two of us. My current personal philosophy of getting through one day at a time wasn't going to fit with a newborn in tow. The baby was going to need constant care and support, something I was unsure if I could provide.

I pushed those thoughts from my mind as I pulled the gown over my form, leaving the cloth straps untied to have it hang loose. I pulled my black track pants and underwear down simultaneously, groaning slightly at the sight of the pinkish liquid. When I left earlier, there was only a light spotting of blood. With this amount of liquid, the baby must have been close to arriving. I tried my best to hide the soiled clothes as best I could, pushing all of the garments in the plastic bag that was lying on the bed. My outfit was the only non-tattered clothing I owned and I didn't want the staff to take them from me because of a little blood.

"Are you finished in there?"

"Yeah," I sharply exclaimed in response to the nurse, as the pain began once more.

My legs almost gave out, but my companion was quickly there to steady me. The nurse took the bag of clothes from the bed and pulled back the white sheet. I barely registered being laid back on the mattress as the pain was so great. My eyes flickered shut as I felt a clip being placed on my finger. A cuff was also placed on my arm and pumped as the nurse began to take my blood pressure. I felt something push at my lips, opening my eyes slightly to see a disposable thermometer being thrust at me. I parted my lips and let the white piece of plastic situate correctly in my mouth, all the while trying my best to keep the tears from my eyes.

The pressure was becoming far to great and my mind kept fearing the worst. Maybe something was wrong with the pregnancy. From what I did know, teenage pregnancies weren't always the safest... especially someone with really no prenatal care. I didn't smoke or drink, tried to stay away from unhealthy foods, but I still felt as if I had let my child down. But I truly couldn't help the situation I was forced into.

The thermometer was removed from my mouth after the cuff deflated. The clip was removed from my finger as the nurse scribbled down some notes on her clipboard. I sighed as the pain quickly returned to being manageable and I reached up to wipe the few tears that had formed away before they fell. It was then that I noticed the man beside my bed, looking down on me with an expression of concern.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, reaching out to fix the gown that had fallen off my shoulder.

"Tired," I mumbled with a sigh. His fingers glided down my bare arm and a chill went down my spine. No matter how kind he was being, this just didn't seem right. I opened my mouth, but stalled as I saw the nurse was too close by. Yet she quickly smiled and walked out of the room and I knew that it might be the only time I had to ask a certain question that had been lingering in the recesses of my mind. "Who are you?"

He chuckled at the question, his blue eyes twinkling in the light of the room. I had been wanting to ask since the waiting room, but felt no real need. He was just _a__helpful__stranger_ then. Yet now, things were a little more _personal_. He was going to take part in one of the biggest occasions in a woman's life. I didn't know anything about him besides for his eyes being as captivating as the deepest ocean.

"You can't be tired yet," he replied, dodging my question and returning to the answer of his own. "You still have awhile to go."

For the first time in our whole _one__hour__relationship_, I was irritated at him. I hadn't exactly asked him for help. I was _grateful_, still a little_skittish_, and now _aggravated_ that the one piece of information that I wanted he was withholding. I sighed and glowered up at him.

"I had to walk around four miles to get here with contractions that got worse with every step I took," I grumbled, responding to his joking statement. I figured that if I gave him more information about me, maybe he would open up slightly. I wasn't asking for much... a name was all my brain wanted. "The trip took around six hours and then there was that great long wait I had to endure down in the waiting room."

"You were in no condition to be walking about. Why didn't you just get someone to drive you?" he asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. "Or call a cab or better yet an ambulance?"

I scoffed at his reply with a shake of my head. _If__he__only__knew..._ I wished that my life was as easy as it once was. I took so many things for granted , but now... I knew what it was like to have almost less than nothing and try to survive.

"I am not about to explain myself to you when I don't even have the slightest clue who you are," I vented, just as another contraction hit.

I screeched and grasped for the metal railing on the bed. Instead of cold metal, my hand found warm flesh and I groaned. No matter how frustrated I was at him, the small sense of support was welcomed. As it had been for some time now, the contractions had become too painful to talk through. I knew that our conversation was likely finished for the rest of the delivery. I shouldn't have been focusing on him to begin with.

Through the pain, I noticed the door open and Isabella returned with another woman in tow. She introduced herself as Dr. Rose and asked a few questions, but I didn't have the ability to talk. Honestly, my brain hadn't even registered what she asked. Every synapse seemed focused on the pain and pressure I was feeling. She turned to the man next to me and asked another question. He shrugged his shoulders.

"You would have to ask her that," he replied with a charming smile. The pain subsided and I sighed, swallowing even though my throat was as dry as the desert.

"What do you need to know?" I asked breathlessly, trying to calm my body down the best I could.

"I see that you answered much of the medical history questions downstairs, but I need to get a few from you personally," the doctor said with a smile, seemingly trying her best to be as soothing as possible.

"Ask quickly," I muttered, knowing that if another contraction came, I would be unable to truly communicate.

"Is this your first pregnancy?" she asked, turning her gaze to the clipboard in her grasp.

"Yes," I mumbled, looking away from the gazes of the three occupants of the room.

"And this is your husband, correct?" she asked, pointing her pen between the two of us.

"Not exactly," I mumbled with a forced smile on my lips. "He's... he's... well, he's..."

"We're engaged," my companion replied quickly. I turned to him in shock, but he continued speaking to the doctor. "Her present condition may have sped up our relationship, but I'm going to be there for her and our child.

"Well, at least you will be making it official then," the doctor replied with a small smile. I looked over at the man next to me and gave him a bewildered expression. I didn't want to lie to the doctor. I didn't feel right about it. Yet here he had gone and told a tall tale that I would never be able to reverse. He shrugged his shoulders with a small boyish grin on his lips before turning his attention back to the doctor. "Has the amniotic membrane ruptured?"

"What, what?" I asked quickly, staring at her as if she had grown another head, while also trying my best to put what had just occurred to the back of my mind.

"_Has__your__water__broken__yet_?" she replied, the smile never leaving her lips as she reiterated her query in laymen's terms.

"Oh, yeah," I replied with a nod. "About two hours ago... I think."

"And you are just being admitted now?" the doctor asked as her eyes slightly narrowed, solely focused on my lying form. "You should have been here at least an hour ago."

"Well, I uh... I had to walk here," I said with a shrug and small sheepish laugh. "I didn't have a ride and..."

"It's my fault," my companion spoke up, stalling my fumbling and stammering. "I was supposed to pick her up, but didn't hear my phone at work."

"You could have called an ambulance," the doctor said.

"I have already had three false labors," I explained with a shrug. "I wasn't sure at first if this was another one or the real thing. By the time my water broke, I was already on my way and didn't have a phone to call for any help."

The doctor's expression slightly softened as she handed the clipboard to the nurse beside her. She nodded her head at the man before turning back toward the bed, playing with some of the metal bars and mechanical switches until she had gotten the bed to her liking.

"I need to check you now to see how far you're dilated," she said, lifting up the sheet and spreading my feet about.

I felt the cold metal of a few of her instruments press against my flesh. The coldness was soon overtaken by pain as another contraction came. My hand was quickly grasped as he tried his best to keep me calm. He had even took up breathing in sync with me, something that helped calm my brain even though my body was beyond alleviation.

"Just as I suspected: you're fully dilated," the doctor replied, even though I could barely hear her through the ringing in my ears. The pain seemed to be affecting every part of my body. "It seems like you have been in transitional labor for the past half hour."

"Should we check the fetal heart ra..."

"We don't have time to get the monitor hooked up," the doctor said, cutting off the nurse's suggestion. "The baby is ready to come out and we have to get her pushing promptly."

"Isn't this a little fast for a first pregnancy?" the nurse asked, as I came down from the agony of the last contraction.

"She has likely been in labor all day," the doctor replied, turning away to prepare for the delivery.

_No__wonder__the__contractions__were__much__more__severe_... my body was trying to expel my baby into this world. Yet I was afraid that I wasn't sure if _my__world_ was really ready to house him or her yet. I could barely take care of myself, but soon I was going to be the sole caregiver for another life - _one__I__created_. As much as I was excited, I was also petrified that things were only going to be going from bad to worse; that I would not only ruin my own life but that of a perfectly innocent child.

I tried my best to push all of those thoughts from my mind. There were much more pressing matters at hand, specifically the growing discomfort that I was feeling in my abdomen. I tried my best to suppress any sound, but a high pitched wail emanated from my throat. My hand was grasped and a low baritone was whispering comforting things in my ear. Not like I could truly make out the words, but just the tone helped my mind relax. My body was beyond relief, but at least I knew that it would be over soon.

During the contraction, Dr. Rose and Isabella got everything set up for the delivery. A table of medical instruments was rolled near the end of the bed by a man that I had yet to meet. I figured he was another nurse or attendant for the procedure. The mattress was raised and situated into a birthing position. Isabella came toward the bed and pushed the wood footboard down, allowing the doctor full access. She grabbed a warm sheet from the new attendant and laid it over my bottom half for modesty as she moved my legs into the correct configuration. As soon as I was in the correct position, I felt the urge to push. It seemed as if my baby didn't want to wait any longer and was ready to come into the world.

"Would you like to help or are you just going to observe?" Isabella asked the man whom was still gently holding my hand.

"I'll do anything Christina allows," he responded with a small grin, gesturing his head to my lying form.

Hearing my name come from his lips startled me. I wasn't surprised he knew it as the nurse had used it earlier, but it sounded so foreign coming from his lips. And it made me feel uneasy that he knew so much about me and I didn't even know his name. He was a stranger and was actually willing to take part in the delivery of my child. It didn't make sense and I wasn't sure that I wanted his help.

"Andy, you can hold her leg and brace her knee on the right side and her fiancé will take the left," Dr. Rose said before I could respond.

I tried to interject, but the male attendant was already showing the man the correct way to support the leg. I sighed and realized I was left with no other choice: he was _my__fiancé_ after all. _Too__bad__I__didn't__even__know__his__name._

I felt a strange sensation when the next contraction hit. The doctor was not in position and the attendant was still trying to get "_my__fiancé_" to hold my leg properly. Yet I just had the feeling like I needed to start pushing. It was more pressure than ever before and the pain was heightened in certain in areas. I sat up slightly and started to push.

"Doctor, I think she is ready," Isabella said while I continued to push.

"I'm right here, Christina," the man whispered, reaching out to try and hold my hand. When I stopped pushing to rest, I swatted it away. I continued to pant heavily and stare into his confused blue depths.

"Just do what the nurse told you to do," I murmured through gasps of air. "I don't need any more comforting from you."

"She'll forgive you when your child arrives," Isabella said with a laugh, as she handed a cloth to the doctor who was now between my legs. "She is probably blaming you for all of the pain."

Both he and the nurse shared a chuckle as I shook my head. When I found out I was pregnant months ago, this was not how I pictured this moment. Unknown doctor, unknown hospital... _unknown__fiancé._ I had pictured parents crying and my boyfriend holding my hand, telling me that I was the most beautiful woman in the world and our child was a blessing. Yet my reality was far from my ideal reverie.

For the next few contractions, Dr. Rose instructed me on when and how hard to push. I was trying my best to follow along but most of the times I just went with what I felt. Holding my breath and pushing at the same time was zapping a lot of my strength and the pain was becoming absolutely unbearable. I felt as if I was tearing in two and every push contributed to the rupture.

"Alright, Christina, with that last push, I think you baby is about to crown," Dr. Rose explained. "With the next contraction, I need you to push real hard. You will feel a lot of pressure, but most of the work is almost over.

"I... can't," I whimpered, gasping for air after my last contraction. I shook my head from side to side and my glassy eyes let some of the tears trail down my cheek. "It hurts so bad."

"Can't you give her something for the pain?" my companion asked, concern etched in his tone.

"It's too late," Dr. Rose explained. "She does not have an IV in to administer any medication and besides, the baby is almost out. Just a few more hard pushes should do it. If she had managed to get here sooner, all of the proper precautions could have been taken, but as I explained, she was in labor most of the day. There wasn't much I could do. Besides, the lack of an epidural usually shortens the actual delivery part of labor."

The next contraction hit almost as soon as she had finished speaking. I groaned and quickly put my chin to my chest, pushing with everything I had. The pain needed to end soon. I couldn't take much more. When the contraction subsided, the pressure had alleviated slightly. I panted and rubbed my sweat covered forehead on the mattress, trying to get the hair from my eyes. My companion must have noticed my difficulty, as he reached over and brushed the hair away. He gave me a heartwarming smile, that almost made me forget the fact that he was still a total stranger.

"Almost there," he murmured, wiping a few stray tears from the corner of my eye.

I just nodded my head and looked away from him. The doctor was instructing the nurse to get some instrument as they prepared for the next contraction. From the slight relief of pressure, I hoped that the end was near. For the first time, I had a dire need to see my child. After all I had been through to get to this moment_,__I__needed__my__child._

"I have rotated the shoulders and with the next push..."

My wail of anguish stopped her statement as she quickly turned her attention back to my child. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and began to push once more. I heard the nurse speaking to me, but didn't even try to process the words. I was too lost in my task. The doctor told me I could rest, but I refused, shaking my head from side to side.

"No, still in pain... baby needs to come out," I muttered through gritted teeth. My contraction had yet to subside and I was not going to wait for the next one. The time was now - _I__could__feel__it._

I pushed and pushed until black spots appeared before my eyes. With the last bit of my strength gone, I fell back against the mattress. But something felt different. I was still in pain, but the pressure was...

_"Waaa!"_

The cry pierced the air and all of my pain fled. A small, bluish, bloody mass of flesh was laid on the sheet on my chest. The baby wriggled around and I fought the urge to touch him. I was unsure if it was safe, but my motherly instinct was too great. I brought my finger out to the baby's hand and began to cry when our skin touched. _My__child..._

Isabella reached over and picked up my child. I tried to reach out to keep the little bundle with me, but knew that this was all part of the procedure. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, but my motherly impulse was just too strong. I needed my child back in my arms.

"Do you want to cut the cord, _Dad_?"

I opened my eyes at Dr. Rose's query. I saw the man blush a little before turning to catch my gaze. I shrugged my shoulders, not truly caring at the moment. Anything that would get the child in my arms as quick as possible was fine with me. The man looked away before nodding. Isabella held out the slightly clean child while the doctor handed him the tool and showed him where to cut. It was then I noticed for the first time that my child was a boy.

_A boy with beautiful blue eyes._

When the cord was cut, the man returned to my side. My son was taken to the other side of the room as the nurse had him checked out and cleaned up. I kept my eyes focused on my son, until my companion reached for my hand. I turned to him with a small, tired smile on my lips. With my free hand, I crooked my finger his way. He looked at me slightly confused, but complied leaning down close to my own lying form. I leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you... for everything," I whispered, before letting my head fall back against the pillow.

There was still so much mystery about the man, but I was sure I would never find out. Most pertinent was his motive for his actions. I wasn't used to finding kindness in strangers yet he went above and beyond anything I could have imagined. Now that the pain was diminishing, I could think a little clearer and knew how much I owed him for his help. I had felt more secure and in control because of his presence. Even though I would never see him again, I knew he would always have a place in my heart because of today.

I turned my attention back to my son at the far end of the room. He was wiped clean and being swaddled in a cloth. A knitted hat was placed on his slight tuft of downy hair. I saw his arm reach out and swat at the nurse and could tell already that he was my son. He had my stubbornness right from the womb. I smiled as Isabella returned to my side with my newly cleaned and bundled son. My arms reached out instantly and he was soon placed within my grasp.

His blue eyes blinked open as he seemed to be taking in the world for the first time. I smiled down at him and mouthed a few words of love. It was amazing how quickly one could feel such an unconditional love for another person. That was what is was though... a love that could never be broken.

"I'm John, by the way. John Cena."

My eyes slowly rose from my son to the man still huddled next to the bed. His eyes held my gaze for a moment before flicking down to the squirming newborn in my arms. His eyes gleamed and he tentatively reached out a strong hand toward my son. He ran a finger along the thin porcelain arm as my gaze alternated between the two. My son was still getting used to being out of the womb and my companion _-__John_ - was seemingly in awe of what new life truly looked like: so fragile yet full of energy, so small yet large in heart.


	2. Chapter 2

_"Allies never trust each other, but that doesn't spoil their effectiveness" - Ayn Rand_

_**June 2006...**_

I groaned as I cautiously reached my arms over my head. In these few post sleep moments, I felt truly at peace. Things seemed so much calmer than anything I had experienced in the past few months. But as soon as my eyes blearily opened, I remembered all that had transpired in the last ten or so hours.

I was now a mother.

A small smile fell on my lips as I remembered his angelic face. He looked so innocent, so flawless. I couldn't believe that just a few hours before he was inside of me. I had actually created something that... _that perfect_. Yet thinking about my newborn son brought back the memory of the pain. Even through the pain medication that was still likely flowing through my IV, I could feel small contractions wracking my body. The nurses said that these could last a few days as my body readjusted to not having a growing child in its womb.

I blinked my eyes fully open. The room was much more comforting than the birthing room. It wasn't as large and foreboding, with not as many medical apparatuses that seemed to threaten more than soothe. The room was bright and quite feminine and didn't seem like a hospital at all. I could barely remember switching rooms, but as my sleepy haze began to subside, more memories became clear in my mind.

My first few moments with my son... having to struggle to try and feed him... finally being able to take a warm shower (even though it was beyond painful)... having to try and explain to the nurses why I didn't pack a nightgown for myself to wear... and of course, John.

I looked from side to side, but he was nowhere to be found. I blearily remembered him saying before I fell into such an exhausted state of unconsciousness that he would be there when I awoke. Yet the quick scan of the room proved otherwise. I sighed, my lips falling into a frown. I wasn't surprised. I didn't even know why I cared so much about someone I didn't even know. I thought it was just that he was there when I needed a hand. At one time in my life, I would have taken any random act of kindness for granted, but now, I could fully appreciate the action.

I broke my thoughts away from the blue-eyed mystery man and reached my arm out cautiously toward the bassinet near my bed. The nurses had told me that after the first few hours, my baby could stay near me if I wished. The nurses needed to keep an eye on both of us and since the birth had no complications, we could stay together. I happily accepted, knowing in the back of my mind that I might not have much time with him. I didn't want to think like that, but the thoughts were slowly creeping into my consciousness. Yet when I reached for him, I noticed he was gone.

My eyes grew wide: _did something happen when I was asleep? Why wouldn't the nurses have roused me? Is that where John was... Why I am I still thinking about John? _

I gingerly pushed the covers back and swung my legs to the side of the bed. I pushed up and groaned when I stood on the cold linoleum floor. Everything still felt so sore. I had no idea how I was going to be able to leave the hospital in a day. There was no way my mind or body would be ready... but it wasn't like I had any other option.

I shuffled toward the door, happy to find that the IV stand could roll along side me. I stumbled my way to the closed door and grasped the doorknob. Yet just as I was about to turn it, I felt the metal spin in my own hand. I gasped as the door was opened inwardly, trying my best to get out of the way. Luckily, the newcomer noticed my surprise and reached a sturdy hand toward my shaking one, steadying me on my own two feet.

"Hey, hey - I thought the doc told you to stay off of your feet until your discharged."

I looked up into his shimmering blue irises and had to fight a small smile from my lips. I couldn't let myself be distracted however. I wanted to see my son... wanted to know that he could still be called _my son_. I wanted these next few hours to last forever. Even with the pain, it was worth it if I could hold him in my arms.

"Where is he? Please, tell me I am not too late. Did they take him?" I rambled frantically, subconsciously digging my nails into John's hand. "Did something happen? Is he..."

"He's fine, mama," John replied soothingly, not affected in the least by the rambling or the death grip on his hand. He cautiously reached his other arm out and wrapped it gingerly around my waist for support. We awkwardly shuffled back over to the hospital bed, John supporting much of my unsteady weight with his strong, muscular form. "He just needed to get a few more tests done. They'll bring him back soon."

We stopped at the side of the bed and he helped me lay back down. I groaned as I tried to get situated on the uncomfortable mattress as my body was screaming at me for getting up. Yet my mind was slightly set at ease. My son was okay... _my son was still my son_. I leaned back and closed my eyes, breathing slowly to calm my racing thoughts.

"How are you feeling?"

The question broke through my thoughts. My eyes flicked open and found John. He had pulled up a chair next to the bed. I slightly turned my form to face him better, causing another spasm to wrack my insides. He leaned over closer to the bed.

"Honestly, I have never felt this much constant physical soreness in my life," I replied, my eyes locking on to the calming blue irises of my companion. "Thanks for the help getting me back in bed. I felt like I was going to fall over."

"You looked it too," he retorted with a laugh, but it did little to truly break me from my own bleak thoughts.

John must have noticed that his upbeat attitude was not helping my disposition. His smile fell slightly as he reached a hand out to try and grasp mine. Yet I moved my appendage away, not really wanting any support at the moment. It wouldn't help me in the long run and I needed to think about how I was going to handle the next day of my life. I was at a loss of what options I really had and was just waiting for everything to fall down around me.

"What did you mean when you asked me _'Did they take him?_'" John posed pensively. "I take it you meant something a little deeper than _did they take him to get a bath_ or _to the nursery_ or..."

I sighed and looked away from him. I turned my head to the other side, biting my lip in nervousness. John had been very supportive so far, yet he truly knew nothing of my situation. And on the flipside, I knew nothing of his besides the fact that he seemed to be a very nice guy. I didn't know if I could trust him. I wasn't sure if I _should_ trust him. The past few months, I had done everything on my own. Everyone that I thought cared for me abandoned me. They cast me aside as soon as my situation became slightly complicated. I doubted John would be much different.

"Look, you have been nothing but a true gentleman and I wish I had more than words to thank you for it," I replied, turning my head away from the wall to face his eyes once more. It was much harder to talk when staring into his blue depths, but I mustered up the strength to try. "But I still can't trust you. It's not that I don't want to. It's just..."

"_Just?_" he asked, after I had fallen silent in contemplation. I shook my head slightly, looking down at my two clasped hands in my lap.

"I don't trust easy for some reasons," I replied, flicking my eyes to his. I noticed he was about to retort and quickly spoke. "Reasons which are my own."

"I'm not looking for much here," John continued. "It's just you seem so lost and confused. It's written all over your face and I want to help if I can."

"Why?" I scoffed out quickly, before my mind truly had time to comprehend what I had just said. I sunk further away from him, but found it hard with the slightly raised mattress behind me.

"I don't know why," he replied, truth radiating in his tone. "It's just..."

It was John's turn to be at a loss for words. It looked as if he was truly thinking over his response. I waited for a few moments before responding.

"_Just_?" I posed, in the same manner he had asked me a few moments ago. His steady look of reflection broke into a grin, a laugh spilling out from his lips.

"Seems like both of us are too caught up in our heads," he replied with a smile. "But if you promise to answer my question, I'm sure I could think up an answer to yours."

His dimpled smile slightly put my mind at ease. I leaned my head back against the inclined mattress and caught his gaze. I nodded my head in agreement and his expression fell slightly pensive. He seemed to search inside himself for a few moments before leaning over the side of the mattress slightly from his seat. He put both of his hands on the mattress, yet thankfully made no move to reach for my own.

"The past few years, I have felt like my life has been in overdrive," John began softly. He kept his eyes focused on his own hands as spoke. "I find it hard to even catch a breath sometimes, you know?"

His eyes lifted and searched mine. I knew nothing of his life, but could relate to that sentiment. Yet I doubted that the relation was because of similar circumstances... well, I could _definitely_ say it wasn't the same. Even if we were from two different worlds as it seemed to be, some emotions could translate. It seemed like this was one of them - the feeling that life was just going by and you were just trying to survive it.

"I love my life and all I have and have done, but..."

John trailed off and once more looked down at his hands. He shook his head and chuckled blithely.

"Sometimes, it just isn't enough," he whispered. He took a few moments to himself before raising his gaze once more. His eyes held much more confidence and a small smile was perched on his lips. "So why am I here, huh? Maybe I just want to do something for someone else for once. You looked like you could use a friend."

I nodded my head and looked down at my own hands lying on my still sore stomach. It slightly made sense, but was still quite vague. Yet what was I truly expecting? At least I knew that there was some motivation in his heart for his actions. He truly seemed like a nice guy, and I figured that I did owe him an explanation.

"I don't have any insurance," I whispered, watching my fidgeting fingers to avoid his stare. "I don't have any money. For the last seven months, I've lived... lived in parks or at shelters."

I heard him mutter something under his breath, but kept my gaze away from his own. I didn't want pity. Sympathy and empathy maybe, but not pity. I might have regretted getting pregnant when it first happened, but over the past months, I had grown into the idea of being a mother. I knew it would be hard, especially because I had no support system or no true stable lifestyle. But I bonded with the child that spent so long growing inside of me. I couldn't picture my life without him and he was only a few hours old. That thought made the reality of my situation come crashing down on me once more.

"I don't have a job or a place to take him home to," I murmured as the first few tears pricked the corners of my eyes. "And when the hospital finds out... they'll probably end up giving him to a family that can take care of him."

"Hey, that's not true," my companion imparted softly, as I watched his hands reach out and grasp my own on my stomach. "Everything will be fine. I promise."

"You can't promise me that," I muttered, trying my best to pry my hands from his strong grasp. "You don't know..."

"Christina," he interrupted, my name sounding so soothing coming from his lips. My eyes rose to meet his, the deep blue irises so strong in conviction. "I won't allow them to take him from you."

We both stayed silent for a few moments, just staring into each other's eyes. He seemed so sure, while I was scared and dreading the days to come. I didn't understand how he could say such things to someone he didn't know. Doing something nice for someone was one thing... promising things that were practically impossible was another.

"Besides, we are engaged aren't we?" he asked jokingly, his eyes brightening with his query. Yet I really wasn't in the mood for jokes. "What kind of fiancé would I be if I let my own child get taken away?"

"Please, don't," I responded, turning my head to the side to avoid his jovial stare.

I needed to try and think of some way to get out of this whole situation... and preferably with my son by my side. A few minutes passed, but nothing came to my mind. The shelter I was staying at was not a place for a newborn. Hell, it wasn't the best place for an eighteen year old, but it was better than the city park. Even though the cot's mattress felt like wood, it wasn't a cold park bench. I had already spent too many nights under the moonlit sky than I truly cared to remember.

But the shelter had many downsides. There was no privacy. There was no sense of belonging. Everything was communal. You had to keep your personal items with you at all times or risk them being stolen. It was not the atmosphere I wanted to bring my son into. Yet if by some miracle I made it out of the hospital with him, it seemed that was where we would have to go.

"How old are you?"

The question startled me from my own thoughts. I turned my head back to meet his gaze. The cheerful attitude he had held a few moments prior was gone. Once again, his face was a mask of seriousness.

"I turned eighteen two months ago," I murmured, watching as his eyes slightly widened.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He choked out a laugh, shaking his head. His eyes flickered as he went to speak, yet a loud knock on the room's door halted any words from escaping his lips. He groaned and let go of the hold his hands had on mine. He rose from his seat and partially opened the door.

I sunk back into the raised mattress and let out a long exhale of air. Maybe it was the doctor coming with more forms for me to sign... forms that would most likely be signing away the rights to my son. I reached up and brushed the tears from my eyes, before returning them to John's back. He seemed to be in conversation with whomever was on the other side of the door.

I tried to listen, but the muffled tones made it impossible to truly discern the conversation. I leaned my aching body closer to the doorway, finally being able to make out the exchange. Yet as soon as the first few words hit my eardrums, John turned back around. His eyes rose amusingly as I quickly tried to fall back onto the mattress. I groaned, as the quick movement caused a spasm to ripple through my sore torso. He bit back a chuckle, but I still glowered up at him.

"A few of my friends are here," John said with a smile. "You mind if they come in?"

I gave him a quizzical stare, but his expression never faltered. _Why would he invite his friends?_ Nothing with John had ever made sense to me, but he was becoming more of an enigma by the minute. I didn't know what to say, so I just nodded my head. He grinned and winked my way before turning back around to the partially open door. He whispered a few more comments before the door swung open.

John hugged the woman whom entered. She was probably around my height with dark brown hair and matching eyes. Yet my eyes were quickly drawn to the pale blue basket that she clutched in her hands. My whole situation was going from slightly confusing to totally bewildering by the second. Yesterday in the waiting room, I had prayed for support and comfort. But this... this was just illogical.

The man that entered patted John on the back with his free hand. The other was clasping a large bouquet of summer wildflowers. The man was taller than John by a few inches, not as built but still looked as if he could be the model for a Renaissance sculptor any day. He leaned closer to John and whispered something to him, which caused John to laugh heartily. They seemed quite close and I found myself just becoming lost in watching them interact. It had been so long since I had shared a relationship like that.

"You must be Christina."

I turned my attention away from the two men and concentrated on the woman who took John's seat next to me. She smiled up at me as she placed the basket on a table nearby.

"I'm Sam. I'm a friend of John's," the woman continued, a seemingly genuine smile plastered on her expression. "Well_, friend by association_, but still _friends_."

She waved her hand back toward the two men whom were still in conversation. My eyes didn't leave hers, but I understood what she meant. I had already surmised that much about the friendship between the two men.

"I heard the labor was pretty quick," she continued, her tone just as bubbly as her expression. I rose my brow in slight confusion, but she quickly continued. "How are you feeling? Is it as bad as they say?"

"I guess?" I murmured questioningly. Her smile never faltered as she nodded her head.

"I can only imagine," she replied with a chuckle. "Well actually, _I can't_, but you understand what I mean."

"Sure," I said with a small smile, trying my best to be as friendly as possible.

She seemed nice, but I was still so unsure of what exactly was happening. And the more and more time that went on, the more and more I was missing my son. I drifted off just thinking of his groggy gaze looking up at me. His blue blinking eyes that held so much hope in them. So much hope for a future that seemed so uncertain.

"Christina... you in there?"

He was depending on me. No matter what my situation, I needed to do what was best for him. Could I truly say that was living in a shelter? Wouldn't it be best to let him grow up with someone who could actually provide him with the life he deserved? Was I really going to deprive him of a good life just because I couldn't let go?

"Christina?"

John's deep baritone broke through my thoughts. I looked over at the three concerned expressions. I quickly reached up and wiped away the few stray tears that had managed to form and fall subconsciously. My mind was just too wrapped up in what my soon to be future held.

"Sorry, I'm just..." I stopped, not really wanting to explain the situation. The other man nodded reaching over to pluck the water pitcher from the end table. He let the bouquet fall into the plastic before replacing it on the side of the bed.

"Name's Randy," he said, his tone low and not very expressive. Yet I was thankful that my little display of emotion was being glossed over. "Cena thought seeing some friendly faces would do you some good. But he had to settle for me."

The joke caused the other two members of the room to chuckle. I just smiled slightly and nodded, looking over at the flowers. They reminded me of my mother's garden. I remembered spending many a day looking outside my window at the bright colored flora that she nurtured to life. When I was very little, I would ask her about them. She said she took such great care of them because they reminded her of her own children. _You water them daily with love and watch them bloom._ Guess I "bloomed" too much for her.

"And if you didn't guess, this is for you too," Sam said, breaking me from my melancholy thoughts. I turned my attention back to the group as she maneuvered the table to lean over the bed, the blue basket now situated over top of my lying form. "Well, maybe not _for you_, but for your son."

I looked down at the tinted cellophane-wrapped basket. I couldn't exactly understand what was happening. This type of stuff doesn't happen... at least, that is what my brain was trying to tell me. I kept thinking that maybe I was still unconscious... the heavy medication keeping me sedated and this was all a fever dream. I blinked my eyes a few times, but nothing changed.

"Are you okay? Should we call a nurse?"

I looked up at the concerned face of the brunette woman and shook my head.

"Sorry... I'm just..." I started softly before drifting off. I didn't exactly know how to explain myself. I decided that the best course of action was just to forget about speaking. I reached out, wincing slightly because of the pain in my abdomen. The IV was also tugging in my arm; the tape that was securing the needle had been adhered way too tight to my skin. I groaned as my arm fell back at my side.

"How 'bout I help with this?" John asked, moving forward to stand next to the seated Sam near the bed. I just shot him a small smile before retreating back into my own thoughts.

I watched as he pulled back the cellophane, but my mind was spinning circles in my head. I wanted to see my son. I _needed _to see him. And this whole situation I had found myself in was becoming more confusing by the second. I watched John's hands as he pulled out a few onesies, bottles, pacifiers... more and more essentials that were needed for taking care of a newborn child. I slightly shook my head, blinking back a few tears that had formed once more in my eyes. This had to be a dream... one that I really didn't want to awaken from.

"What did you two do? Rob a Babies'R'Us or something?" John joked as he neatly placed all of the items back in the basket.

I felt the tears begin to make tracks down my cheeks. I quickly and painfully reached up to put my hands over my face. I mumbled a "sorry", but knew even though my voice was muffled, it could be heard. I leaned my head back, my hands still shielding my bleary, watery eyes. When I came to the hospital, I wasn't prepared at all for my son's entrance into the world. Now, I had the material items that he would need. But all they did was serve as a reminder to the cold, hard truth: all of the clothes and toys in the world couldn't shelter my baby from the world. And it wasn't something that I could do either.

"You sure you're okay?" John mumbled, as I felt him slightly brush a hand through my hair.

"No," I mumbled with a blithe chuckle. I pulled my hands away from my face and looked up into his compassionate gaze. "It's just... I wasn't prepared at all. The only thing I brought with me for him was a stuffed bear."

I had purchased a small white bear with some of the money that I was able to save from my last job. It looked exactly like my own first stuffed animal. I remembered hearing stories from my parents about how I took my bear everywhere with me my first few years of life; that he was my protector and closest friend. I wanted my son to have that same happiness. It was the least that I could do for him.

I watched as John tore his eyes from my gaze to look at the other man at the foot of the bed. It was only then that I remembered the other two occupants of my room. I felt a little uncomfortable speaking so personally in front of them... which was odd because I honestly didn't feel that way about John. Sure, it was a little awkward and bizarre that he seemed to care so much, but there was just something there that made me open up. At least for the moment...

"Thank you," I murmured, realizing that I had never thanked the two newcomers for their gifts (even though I had a sinking suspicion that this was also John's doing). "I don't exactly understand... but thank you."

"Trust me, you're not alone there babe," Randy replied with a slight smirk. I furrowed my brow and watched as John shot his friend a cold stare. My eyes flicked to the taller man who just shrugged his shoulders.

"Don't listen to Randy," Sam said cheerily as ever. "He's... well, he's just being _Randy_."

"Well, thanks, but I think..."

A knock at the door interrupted my statement. I was going to voice my opinion that Randy actually seemed to be speaking the truth. John Cena was still a total mystery to me and everything that was happening because of his appearance in my life was... well, it was _indescribable_. Yet all of those thoughts faded from my mind as a nurse came through the door, pushing a plastic bassinet in front of her. My eyes focused on the little wriggling form lying on the pale blue blanket and a smile formed on my lips.

"Sorry to intrude, but he's hungry mommy," the nurse joked as she wheeled the basinet near the side of the bed.

I swallowed hard before a small grin fell upon my lips. Now that all of the endorphins and stress from the child birth had washed away, I could fully appreciate the life that I had created. It was as if I was going to officially meet my son. I heard some mumbles from the small congregation in the room, but focused solely on the small child being lifted into the nurse's arms.

"We're going to go," Sam muttered, as she rose from the chair near the bed. "Let you two bond and everything."

I quickly spared the man and his significant other a glance and smile. I nodded my head and mouthed a thank you before returning my attention to my son. Just one look at him, and my physical pain seemed to lessen. His presence just made everything seem better. The nurse was helping me get situated better on the mattress so he would rest easier in my arms. I smiled gratefully at her as she placed the small child down, moving the IV slightly so as not to get tangled in his legs.

"John, you coming?" Randy asked.

My attention rose to the man still standing near my side. I was slightly surprised at the expression on his face. John's attention was solely focused on the boy in my arms, a heartwarming smile stretched across the full expanse of his lips. His eyes moved to meet mine and his expression turned sheepish, as if he had been caught doing something he felt embarrassed by.

"Cena!"

Randy's bellow not only startled John and I from our slight staring contest, but caused the child in my arms to begin to wail. The noise assailed my ears, but my natural motherly instinct must have taken over as I quickly turned my attention to him and began to try and soothe him back to normal.

"What did you do that for?" John seethed softly to his friend, stepping a few paces away from the bed so not to disturb my still crying son. "What's the matter with you?"

"_What's the matter with me?_ I think I should be asking you that very question," Randy retorted, but in a much lower tone than he previously held. John tried to stifle him further, but it didn't halt his friend from speaking. "Do you even know what you are doing here... or why you are doing it?"

"I'll meet up with you two later," John answered curtly before I heard the door shut. I spared a quick glance his way. "Sorry about him. He's just..."

"Forget it," I murmured, knowing that I really couldn't get any answers myself with the nurse still in the room. The hospital staff thought that we were engaged. I had to try and at least feign the part for a little while.

"Now, I don't know how much you remember from his first feeding..." the nurse started, and I just shook my head in confusion. I sort of remembered, but I wasn't in the best state of mind to remember the little details. Everything I remember was just focusing on my son, and trying my best to keep my thoughts positive on what our future together would entail. "Alright, we'll just start from the beginning then. I just need you to shift slightly forward so I can pull your gown down."

I made sure that my son was secure lying on my stomach before leaning up away from the mattress. The nurse quickly came to my side and smiled. I felt the fabric begin to move down my shoulder, but immediately my hand flew up to cover her own. My gaze stayed on the man now at the foot of the bed, my eyes pleading with him to do something. His cheeks slightly flushed and he turned away to look toward the door.

"Don't be so nervous," the nurse said with a laugh. "You just had his child. I'm sure that you're the most beautiful woman in the world to him at the moment."

I exhaled the breath that I hadn't even realized I had been holding. John was no longer looking this way so I allowed her to continue to pull the garment away from my chest. My eyes stayed glued on John's form, making sure that his eyes did not travel over my way. I hardly knew the man and if these past few months taught me anything it was don't be too quick to trust. Even people that you thought you knew could surprise you. _My family, my friends... _even if I wanted to, I doubted I would ever be able to trust someone so fully again.

The nurse began to give me gentle instructions on how to go about feeding my child. I tried my best to comply, while also subconsciously returning my gaze to the man a few paces away. His eyes were still turned from me and I smiled. Through the instruction, I think my son understood the concept better than I. When he latched onto my flesh, I was shocked but soon melted into motherly affection. I reached out with a few free fingers and gently stroked the side of his face, trying my best to stifle a chuckle when he slightly wiggled in my grasp.

"Well, I think you both have the hang of it now," the nurse said happily, looking over to check some of my vital signs before moving away from the bed. "I'm going to let the happy family have some bonding time. I'll be back in awhile to check on you."

With that, she quickly exited the room. I sighed, looking back down at my son. _Family, huh? _I wasn't sure I knew what that word really meant anymore. To me, there was only my son. He was the sole importance of my life at the moment. I just needed to make sure that he wasn't taken from me. I didn't think I could survive that.

I was lost in my own musings that I didn't notice when a large hand appeared in front of my gaze. I was made aware of its presence only when my son wiggled once more from the light stroking of his face. I gasped slightly and looked up at the man towering over the bed. His blue irises moved from my son to meet my own gaze. A smile fell on his lips, one that made his dimples become more pronounced than I had ever seen in our short time as companions. The sight made my own cheeks turn slightly pink and I quickly looked back toward my son.

His gentle suckling had stopped and he seemed to have fallen into a light sleep. John had stopped his light stroking, allowing me to hold my son tighter to my form. It just felt so right. All of the months of him growing inside me, and now he was here... and he was so perfect.

I shifted as I tried to pull my gown up over my chest once more. Not only because a slight chill had fallen over the room, but with John in such close proximity, my sense of modesty was heightened. Yet the sleeping child in my arms made it quite difficult. Seemingly sensing my trouble, two large arms reached down and gently picked up my son.

I opened my mouth to speak, but it quickly closed upon viewing the scene in front of me. My son looked so small in John's big arms, but shockingly, not entirely out of place. John cooed down at the slightly roused child, whom was stretching in the new grasp. I resituated the gown correctly on my body as I watched my son's eyes fall shut once more.

"Did you think of any names yet for the little guy?"

John's soft-spoken question startled me. I nodded in response, but noticed that his attention was still focused on the newborn in his arms.

"Um, yeah," I replied. "I've had a few names that I've been thinking about. But before he was born, I couldn't decide which one... well, which one would be _right_."

"What are they? Any of them fit him or are you thinking of something new?" he asked, before chuckling and throwing a cheeky grin my way. "I've always been quite partial to Jonathan, but then again, that could just be me."

"Mm-hmm," I responded with a laugh causing him to respond in kind. "Sorry, but it didn't make the cut. I was thinking of either Logan, or Tristan, or Noah."

"And?" he asked after a few moments of pensive silence. I was just staring at my son thinking of what name would correctly suit him. To me, there was only one that seemed to truly fit.

"Logan," I mused, liking how the name sounded coming from my lips. "His name is Logan."

"Logan," John repeated, as my heart did a little flutter in my chest. _The way he said his name just sounded..._ "I like it. It suits him."

"Glad you approve," I joked with a genuine smile. "_Logan Chambers_ - sounds perfect."

John strode the few paces back over toward the bed and sat down on the side, reaching out to place my son back in my arms. I thanked him softly under my breath before looking down at my resting son_. If I could just stop time and live in this moment..._ I didn't really want to, but my mind kept pulling me back to my predicament. The more I bonded with Logan, the more desperate I was becoming. I needed to find a way to get out of this hospital with my son.

"What am I going to do?" I muttered under my breath, more to myself than to the man sitting beside me.

"Come live with me," John replied after only a few moments of silence. I looked away from my son as a brusque laugh emanated from my throat. _Was he actually serious?_

"You don't know me," I replied disbelievingly. "You are taking this playing hero thing to an extreme, don't you think? I mean, I am sure there are more damsels in distress that could use your attention."

"Ouch, you wound my manly pride," he joked, before his expression turned serious once more. "I'm not saying it would be permanent or anything. You just need a way out of this place and I am offering it."

"And it is an offer I cannot accept," I responded firmly. "I appreciate it, but we can't live you."

"Why not?" he asked, actually sounding slightly hurt by my refusal.

I looked at him as if he had grown another head. Why couldn't he see the many shades of wrong that this situation was becoming? Random acts of kindness happen every day. Maybe not to me, but they do happen. From small things to tipping waitresses a little more to large things like donating a kidney so another could have the chance at life. But this went beyond kindness... it was becoming slightly creepy, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

"Look, I don't even know you," I replied in the most polite tone I could muster. "What you have done for me and Logan already is far and away the most amazing kindness anyone has ever bestowed upon me. But what you are asking is not possible."

"You said yourself you have no place to go," John countered. "Besides, I have all the room in the world at my place and I am hardly ever home. You would actually be doing me a favor."

"John, I..."

"You could be my house sitter," he continued, interrupting my feeble attempt at halting his speech. "Room and board in exchange for keeping everything at the home in shape. Now, there is an offer you'd be a sucker for refusing."

"Well, call me a sucker then," I replied with a sigh.

Nothing he was saying even made sense. He was never at home, yet he had a house that needed looking after? Things just weren't adding up and I was really beginning to doubt the small amount of trust that I had put in him. No sane person could ever suggest the arrangement he was offering.

"If you aren't the most damned stubborn woman I've ever met!" John vented with a laugh. "I never planned on anything like this happening, but..."

"Then why did you let it?" I interrupted, wanting to get at least a few answers out of the man who stayed by my side before I made him leave.

"I was here to grant a wish... and please, I know you aren't going to understand, but just bear with me," he explained, interrupting my query about _wish granting_ before it could become vocalized. "I visited this kid named Joshua. He has leukemia that has yet to respond to any type of treatment they try. But he is a fighter and..."

John broke off and his attention drifted off. He seemed to become quite emotionally affected when thinking of the young boy that he had met the day before. He looked down at Logan and a small smile formed on his lips.

"And on my way out, I saw you," he continued, his gaze rising from Logan to hold my gaze. "I don't know why, but there was just something... _something_ about you that affected me. Maybe it was because of Joshua. Maybe it was just because it looked like you needed someone to lean on. And for some reason, I wanted it to be me. I never planned on it going further than just being there for you in the waiting room. But... here we are - two instead of three and I just can't walk away."

"I'm asking you to," I replied as a few tears threatened to fall. "No, I'm _telling_ you to."

"Yeah, well, I've never been one to do as I was told," he countered with a grin, rising from his seated position. "I believe in doing what is right, and this is right."

"No, _this_ is ludicrous," I said disbelievingly. "I'll find another way to take Logan with me. I'll make the hospital understand my situation..."

"And then what?" John interrupted quite exasperated, obviously trying to keep his voice quiet enough to not disturb Logan but still get his frustration across. "You take Logan back to some rat infested shelter... or better yet back out on the street?"

"Don't you dare judge me," I seethed. "You don't know me and know nothing of my situation. I'm just trying to do what is best for Logan."

"_What is best for Logan_... that is what I am offering," he said, his tone much more relaxed than his demeanor would suggest. "And if you don't take it... I might have to do something I will probably regret."

"Meaning?" I asked pensively, knowing that I wasn't going to like the answer.

"You _know _what I mean," he replied. Truth be told, I had a feeling that I did know. He would tell the hospital about my situation. It would ensure that Logan was properly taken care of, but at the expense of being without his mother. I couldn't allow that to happen. "I don't want to do it, but I am not going to damn him because of his mother's stubbornness."

"This has nothing to do with stubbornness," I said. "This has to do with common sense."

"Common sense would say you accept help when you need it," John retorted with a small grin. "And you need help, whether you want to admit it or not."

I bit my lip and thought things over. I really couldn't trust John, even if my heart was telling me to. If I couldn't trust my own family, how could I trust a stranger? He seemed like a nice enough guy, but there was just something off about this whole thing. Yet I didn't see any other way of getting Logan out of the hospital. I wasn't in a position to refuse his offer, but I couldn't accept it either. But maybe... I could _pretend _to. _Just long enough to get out of here - then we'll be free. _

"Okay," I said with a small nod of my head. "I'll go along."

_For now..._


	3. Chapter 3

_Thank you Rated R For Randomness for betaing my chapter. Itt wouldn't be good without you. _

_I own nothing_

_Please Please review…_

_Enjoy_

_"Profit is sweet, even if it comes from deception." - Sophocles_

_**June 2006...**_

"Just remember this isn't permanent. You are just doing this to get Logan out of here. You can do this, Chris."

I continued mumbling the three statements that had become my mantra. This whole arrangement with John was not permanent. I had let the man believe that I had accepted his ludicrous idea - move in and be a 'house sitter'. He told me that his house was in Florida and that I had to be prepared to leave my life here behind. I couldn't believe he was taking this so seriously, especially when I was planning on bolting at the first opportune time.

Yet now - for Logan's sake - I would play the role of the damsel and let John _save_ me.

A sharp knock on the door caused my mumbling to cease. I looked over at the door and tried my best to plaster a genuine smile on my face.

"Come in," I exclaimed, pulling the hospital sheet a little higher over my lying form.

The door swung open and in walked my 'savior.' My smile fell slightly when I observed the travel bassinet in his grasp. John's eyes were bright and his smile was as large as I had ever seen it. It seemed as if he was really excited about this new aspect of his life; like he was delighted to become a surrogate caregiver.

"Hey, how was your last night in that hideous hospital gown?" John joked as he set the bassinet on a spare chair near my hospital bed.

"It's not that bad," I muttered, self-consciously looking down at the light blue wardrobe that I was adorned in.

"I didn't mean it," he said with a chuckle. "Just trying to get your spirits up. You should be excited! You and Logan are going home today!"

I held my tongue from retorting that we actually had no home to go to. I needed to play my role for this to work in my favor. Besides, John was a nice man... maybe a little too sure of himself and too generous to not have a hidden agenda. I just hadn't discovered it yet. If he was going to let me run my game, I would not distract him from his.

"Yeah, I'm just still pretty sore," I replied, happy that I didn't have to lie to the man all of the time.

Even though it had been two full days since Logan was born, my body felt as if it had only been two minutes. All of the adrenaline of Logan's arrival had waned but the pain lingered. I had not taken any medication today, wanting to be in a clear state of mind when I left the hospital. I needed to have my wits about me and not get into anything I couldn't get out of.

"I could have a nurse get you some..."

"No, I don't want anything," I interrupted, a little more bitterly than I would have liked. I quickly grinned and forced out a light chuckle. "Don't want to give them a reason to hold me here."

"Good thinking," he replied, before turning to look at the red shopping bag that sat off to the side on an end table. "Did you try on the clothes? Do they fit?"

I nodded, looking down at my hands in my lap. It seemed that John had all of his bases covered - stuff for Logan, stuff for me... He actually had thought this misguided plan of his through. And with the hospital still believing that he was the father of my child (even though we did manage to get the hospital to leave the father's name absent on the birth certificate paperwork), it really did seem like his proposal would work.

"Good to hear," John said, coming to sit down on the edge of the bed. "So just to get you up to speed - I talked to my boss and he agreed to give me until Monday off."

"That's nice of him," I murmured, still refusing to meet his blue irises.

"Yeah, he's usually a hard-ass on taking unsanctioned time away, but these are exceptional circumstances."

"You didn't tell him about this, did you?" I exclaimed quickly, my eyes lifting to search his own.

"Not really," he replied sheepishly, causing me to raise my brow in cynical curiosity. "Don't worry about it. The only thing that should be on your mind is getting Logan out of this place."

_If that ain't the truth... _I suppressed a small smile and just nodded in agreement. He patted my shoulder lightly before rising from his spot on the mattress. He walked over to the shopping bag of clothes and tossed it lightly on the bed.

"I have a bus outside that can drive us to my house in Tampa," he explained, busying himself with undoing and redoing the fastenings on the bassinet.

I was about to ask him about this new development (a bus - _really?_), when John turned his attention back toward me. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly broke off. He looked away once more, staring out of the window and seemingly trying to find the words that eluded him. I didn't know what could be so awkward that he seemed reluctant to speak.

"So I called my lawyer," John began, still keeping his gaze focused on the world outside of the window. I tried my best to keep my breathing calm as I mulled in my brain all of the reasons for that call. "I had him draw up some papers for your ex to sign."

"About?" I asked, even though I had a very keen awareness of where this was heading.

"Look, it is difficult to waive parental rights," John continued, turning away from the window to hold my gaze. "You need to go to court, tell a judge why you are trying to get the father of your child out of your life... something I don't think you are ready to go through."

I groaned, closing my eyes to block out the pity that was reflected in his own. I had tried my best through this whole hospital stay to not think of Brent; the father of my child... the man whom I thought I had loved. As soon as he had found out about the pregnancy, he saw abortion as the only option. He said we were too young to be in such a committed relationship; too young to bear the responsibilities that came with being parents.

We argued for weeks... the few weeks in which he was the only person I told. I tried to get him to understand. I was not strictly pro-life - every woman had her own right to choose what was best for her body - but _I_ wanted my child. Yes, he was an accident, but I would never think of him as a mistake. And after one look in his eyes, I knew that I had made the right choice.

"But you didn't put his name on the certificate," John continued. "Meaning that he has no rights over Logan at the moment. That could change if he wishes to question the paternity. These forms will bind him from doing that."

I opened my eyes when I felt something being dropped on my lap. I looked down at the short stack of papers. Most of it was legal jargon that I had little, if any, knowledge in. The only things that stood out were the names - Brent Williams, Christina Chambers and _Logan Chambers_. My son... _not his_.

"They aren't government sanctioned or anything so he could likely fight them in court," he explained. "But he doesn't need to know that. I know it sounds deceitful, but I think this is best for you and Logan."

_Deceit_... at least I wasn't alone in playing that game. Both John and I were engaging in it all for Logan.

"You don't have to get him to sign them, but I thought I would give you the option," he said with a grin.

I continued to stare down at the papers, shuffling through them briefly even though no more understanding was gained. I was slightly angered that he took the liberty to make this his business. Involving Brent in Logan's life was never even a thought in my mind... not since he made it quite clear how he thought of the matter. Yet I knew that this could play to my advantage.

It would be smart to have Brent sign these papers, even if they weren't truly binding. If I left it open, somewhere down the line - as Brent grew older - he may have a change of heart. He may want to get to know the son he didn't even want. I couldn't give him that chance. He abandoned me and made both me and my child feel less than unwanted. It was as if the man whom I thought I loved turned into a stranger.

"Thank you, John. It was… very smart of you," I replied, raising my gaze to meet his. His pensive expression turned to one of relief at my answer. I decided to continue with the graciousness, knowing that I needed the man to trust my intentions fully. "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be able to even have my son."

He nodded in response, a light pink flushing his cheeks in what looked to be some form of embarrassment. I was slightly puzzled by his behavior. Wasn't he the one who was all gung-ho on this endeavor? And yet, he seemed to truly not understand the seriousness of it himself. It was like he was just taking it moment to moment... nothing completely planned or even thought up.

"Did you sign the release forms?" John asked, rising from the bed to walk back over to the bassinet.

"Yeah, the nurses said they were going to bring Logan by after he was cleared to leave," I replied, smiling as I remembered the cherub-like face of my son when I saw him for his feeding this morning. He looked so content. So innocent... I knew that I would do anything to have him with me and do my best to keep him safe.

"Maybe you should get ready?" John posed, turning to look toward the bag lying at the foot of the bed. "I don't want to push or anything, but we do have an over at thousand mile drive to get ready for."

He laughed slightly and I smiled. The distance between where I had always considered my home and this new life I was 'entering' was vast. I had never really thought of it in numbers, but _over a thousand miles_... I didn't have anyone I could rely on here, but it was still always thought of as my home. Now it seemed like home, which always meant Midwestern suburbia was going to signify Southern beaches and sun-drenched locales.

I tried to push the thought of distance from my mind as I pulled back the sheet and tried to painlessly step out of the bed. It was just not possible. The constant dull throb began to become a stabbing pain as soon as my first foot hit the linoleum.

"You need help?" John asked, concern laced in his tone.

I just shook my head, reaching my hand blindly toward the bag at the end of the bed. I was surprised when I felt the laminated paper being placed in my searching palm. I pulled the bag to me, sparing a mumble of 'thanks' to the man who placed it there. He was not making my plan easy.

I slowly shuffled into the small bathroom, trying my best to avoid as much pain as possible. As soon as I shut the metal door, I dropped the bag in the dry ceramic sink. I ran my fingers through my hair as I stared at my reflection in the small mirror.

Everything was just moving way too fast. A few days ago, I was still living in the women's shelter. Sure it was not ideal - and I never felt safe or protected there - but at least, I relied on myself alone. That all changed once Logan came into this world. I had sheltered him all I could when he was in my womb, but now out in the world... I could barely even protect myself.

I reached into the bag and pulled out the black cotton capri-cut yoga pants. I was happy that John had the foresight to procure clothes that wouldn't cause any more pain. Yet maybe he had one of his friends do it... that Sam or Randy that I had met the day before. Still it seemed like his friend Randy did not seem all that inclined to help or fully understand the situation in which John had found himself.

I groaned as I pulled the spandex-infused cotton over my legs, careful of my current healing body. I grabbed the fuchsia tank top from the bag, letting the scratchy hospital gown fall to the floor. I pulled the top down over my neck, situating it correctly on my body with only a few stabs of pain. I looked into the reflection of the mirror once more. Yet no matter how many fresh clothes I put on, it could not change what I saw shining back.

"This is for Logan," I mumbled, when the doubts began to creep in my mind. This deception would be harder to pull off then I thought. "Think about your son."

I was slightly startled when I heard a muffled conversation from beyond the closed door. My eyes remained on my own reflection as I tried to discern what was going on outside. Without much luck, I brought my mind back to the task at hand: continue the charade as damsel in distress and get my son out of this place. I could think of the future once the hospital was in the rearview mirror. Yet until Logan was out breathing fresh air, I needed to remember my place.

I looked down and went through my morning routine. Once my teeth were brushed, hair was pulled back, and self fully (or as best as I could manage) put together, I reached out for the door handle. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, no longer hearing the conversation from the other side.

I opened the door and gasped under my breath. John was sitting on the mattress, cradling my son. The man seemed so taken with the child. It was endearing, but at the same time disturbing. He was not Logan's father, and I just hoped he had no intention of trying to fill that role.

I went to clear my throat, but John's gaze lifted to my own. For a moment, I thought he would be feeling uncomfortable, having been caught in such a loving position with Logan. Yet his smile did not falter, no blush rising on his dimpled cheeks.

"All set?" he asked, getting up from his seat with Logan still in his arms. "The nurse says that the two of you are all clear to leave. Just need to a page an orderly to get you a wheelchair."

I nodded, walking over to a chair a few paces away where my sneakers were lying. I sat down and gingerly reached out to slip them on my feet, grimacing not just at the few sparks of pain but the continuing affection John was showing to Logan. I watched as he walked over to where the bassinet was placed, and delicately laid my son down. He reached over and lightly stroked his cheek and I looked back down at my feet.

"Ms. Chambers?"

I briefly flicked my eyes to the door where a middle-aged woman stood, wheelchair at her side. I nodded in her direction before finishing tying my Converses.

"I'm sure you parents are happy to take this little guy home," the orderly said, as I rose from the chair.

I spared a nervous and tense glance toward John. He just smiled his hundred watt grin and turned to the woman with contentment radiating from every pore.

"Very happy," he replied, continuing his charade of doting fiancé and loving father.

The word "parents" would not leave me my mind. Even as the orderly helped me get situated in the wheelchair, images flashed through my mind. My family - no matter how estranged we may be - was still _my family_. I had just had my parent's first grandchild, and even though he was not wanted, I couldn't help a nagging feeling telling me that I needed to see them.

The thousand mile trek I was about to take needed to be put on hold, if only for a few moments. I still had some unfinished business here. If I didn't see to it, I would never be able to concentrate on Logan and the life I wanted for him. I needed to bury my past before I could build a future.

"John, do you think..." I started, before realizing that there was another pair of ears listening to this conversation. The orderly was picking up some of my belongings and putting them into plastic bags for us to take, but I knew she was still listening. I couldn't reveal too much, especially considering the man was supposed to be my betrothed. "Would it be alright if we stopped by my parents' house on our way home?"

John gave me a quizzical stare, and it was not just because of the phrasing of my question. Last night before he left the hospital, we had talked through some details of my situation. I didn't tell him everything - I still wanted to have some element of surprise in my deck - but he knew many pertinent details about my pregnancy.

I told him about Brent and his shocking reaction to the news that we were to become parents. John was not surprised about my boyfriend's behavior at first, but upset when I told him how Brent refused to support me once I was kicked out of my parents' house.

The relationship I had with my parents was another topic of discussion. I glossed over a lot; I didn't need him to know that our relationship was once treasured, at least in my mind. I thought that I could always rely on them.

After I had told Brent about my pregnancy, I was hurting and depressed. Yet I thought that I would have support at home. It took me a few weeks, but when I finally did tell them, the hurt that I felt from Brent's rejection was multiplied greatly. They said that I had shamed them; that their friends would see them differently since their daughter got pregnant at seventeen. After a few days of constant bickering, I was given an ultimatum: abort the pregnancy or leave.

At first, I thought that it was a joke. I thought it was my parents' way of seeing how committed I truly was to having my child. When I told them that there was no way I was getting rid of my child, I was stunned by the reaction. There was no outburst of anger, just cold, uncouth dismissal. I was told that if I didn't leave the house by the next night, there would be _severe_ consequences. I didn't wait to call their bluff. I left within a few hours.

Then, I tried reasoning with Brent, yet he refused to help. He said that the news of him becoming a father at seventeen would kill his mother. He just couldn't do it and wanted no part of my - _or his -_ child's life. I told him that he was effectively making his child (as well as 'his first love') homeless, but he hardly was moved. He said I made my decision by keeping the child.

And ever since then, I had been on my own. Yet now, it was not just a growing fetus in my womb that I was trying to make a life for. It was an actual breathing, smiling, content_, innocent_ child - one who did not deserve the circumstances he was inheriting.

"Uh, sure," John said with a nervous chuckle, smiling as the orderly came over to hook the bags on the back of the wheelchair. "If that is what you want to do."

I nodded my head and allowed the orderly to push my chair out of the hospital room. I watched from my periphery as John grasped the bassinet effortlessly and followed us out of the room. As I was wheeled down the hallway toward the elevator, I couldn't help but see the differences from my first trip. My sea foam backpack was hanging from the back of my chair instead of being clutched in my lap. The pain was manageable and not consuming my every thought. But most importantly, my son was no longer screaming to get out from inside me. He was blinking up at the ceiling lights as John carried him by my side.

Our quartet spent the trip to the outside of the hospital in silence. There wasn't much that could be said in the presence of someone not in on our charade. Logan and I were so close to some semblance of freedom. I would not let one false word wreck it.

As soon as my chair was wheeled outside, I gaped in astonishment at the large black bus that was parked in the pickup lane. I looked to my side and wordlessly conveyed my shock. When John had earlier said 'bus', I thought that we would be taking public transportation - some coach style trip that would have given me some sense of normalcy. Not this... but all John did was shrug and grin.

"I will leave them in your care," the orderly said to the grinning man at my side, as I rose from the wheelchair. I grasped the bags and pulled them away from the chair. "Congratulations and good luck."

"Thank you, ma'am," John replied, nodding to the woman as she waved and headed back inside.

"When you said bus, I thought of a Greyhound," I said softly, as I watched the front door of the bus slide open.

"Not really my style," John replied as the presumed driver of the bus came down the stairs. "Can you put this stuff inside the main cabin."

"Sure thing, Mr. Cena," the man replied and my mouth gaped open again.

Who truly was _John Cena_?

John took my arm and slowly helped me walk to the bus, letting me walk up the few steps first. I walked into the first area of the bus and shook my head. It was everything I had read about in my old music magazines - it was like a rock band's tour bus, just minus the groupies. I felt slightly lightheaded and quickly fell into a nearby couch that lined one of the bus's interior sides.

I watched as John walked in and set the bassinet holding my son down on a weird black stand. I shouldn't have been surprised when I noticed that it quickly locked in place, keeping Logan safe and secure even if the bus needed to make a short stop. I shook my head and began to seriously second guess my plan. Even if I wanted to, could I really outthink John? He always seemed to be a few steps ahead of me.

"So, you really want to stop by your parents'?" John asked, turning to me when he was sure that Logan was secure. "Or was that all for show?"

"No, I really want to go," I replied. "I need to say some things to them before we leave."

"Okay," John said firmly as the other man rejoined us. "Christina, this is my driver Tony. Best in the business if I say so myself."

"The best always stick together," the man - Tony - replied to John before turning his attention to me. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss."

"Christina is fine," I said, reaching out to take his outstretched hand. He just nodded and headed back toward the driver's seat.

John came over with a pen and scrap of paper. I stared at the little bit of text that was visible on the printed side - _"Segment Five: The Spirit Squad vs. Goldust and Gene..."_ Yet before I could read further, John flipped it over and handed me the pen.

"Write down the address and I'll give it to Tony," he replied. I nodded as I fought my curiosity to take a look at the other side of the paper. It was obvious that it held some clue as to the mystery that was John Cena. He seemed a little on edge after I had a glance at the other side. I quickly scrawled down the address and he took back both pen and paper without hesitation.

"Hey Tony! We have a stop we have to make before heading out!"

I watched John's retreating form as he headed for the driver's area. I looked around the area, intent on snooping to get a better sense of the identity of my companion, but a slight gurgling noise stole my attention. I rose from my seat and strode the few paces over to where the bassinet rested. I peered into the grey material and found my squirming bundle of joy.

"Logan," I cooed, reaching out to ruffle the little bit of downy hair on the top of his head. His blue eyes blinked up at me. I brought my hand down to lightly grasp his own, marveling at the tiny fingers held within my own. "We are going to be alright. I promise."

I felt the bus come to life and lifted my eyes to the tinted window nearby. After a few moments, the hospital became a memory in both sight and mind. Logan and I were free. I smiled and looked back down at my son. At least, something went our way.

"We should be at your parents' place in a few minutes," John exclaimed as he came back into the main cabin of the bus. "At least, that is what Tony's GPS is saying."

"Sounds about right," I muttered, keeping my eyes on my son.

I wanted to ask him more about some things - the bus, his obvious affluence, the weird writing on the paper. Yet until I had the visit with my parents behind me, it would do me no good. _Past before future._

John settled himself down in a chair across from Logan's carrier. He just sat back and observed mother and son. I was grateful he did not try to engage me in conversation, but at the same time, a little uneasy. This whole situation was wrong in my opinion, but he was wholeheartedly going along with it. I just tried to push down that emotion and concentrate on what I would say at the upcoming meeting.

I hardly got far in my mental preparations when I felt the bus come to a complete stop. I could feel the heavy mechanism of the bus's brakes settle into park as I looked out the window. I took a deep breath as I looked at the modest brick house that I once called my home. Even though some happy memories were shared, all it brought to mind was the pain I had to endure. This was not going to be easy, but it was something I knew I needed to do.

"Could you do something for me?" I asked, as I rose from my seat sparing one last look at my son.

"Anything," John answered as my eyes met his curious gaze. I looked at him slightly bemused that he was so cavalier with his words.

"Be careful what you offer," I replied with a hint of a grin before turning serious once more. "After my parents come out of the house, would you bring Logan outside? You can keep him in this, but... I just want to give them a chance."

"Sure," he said with a nod. I flicked my eyes to Logan, watching as the newborn was flirting with sleep. I smiled before turning and walking the short distance to the front of the bus.

Tony opened the door and nodded my way as I carefully walked down the stairs to the curb outside. I took a deep breath of the slightly balmy June air. I took a few paces up the walk toward my former home. I reached down and let my fingertips run along the tulips the lined the path. I had helped my mother plant these flowers. I wondered if she even recalled moments like that fondly anymore.

I made it to the door. After a few moments to collect my thoughts, I pressed the doorbell. I could hear the sharp clang through the glass and wood. I peered inside the warped glass for any movement, but couldn't see. I sighed and waited... and waited. I looked behind my back at the massive black monstrosity that was parked on the curb. I hoped I was not drawing unwanted attention to myself by coming here.

I heard the door unlatch and swing open. I turned my attention back around and came face to face with my mother for the first time in over seven months. I could see the shock in her expression, but it quickly melted into disgust. I steadied myself, keeping my face as neutral as I possibly could. This was not about her and her feelings. This was all about Logan and our future.

"Jack!" my mother shrieked as her eyes scanned my form.

Her eyes kept focusing on my flat stomach. She had never seen me as a truly showing pregnant woman. I figured she was probably trying to calculate if my pregnancy was all a lie. It wouldn't surprise me if that was what she thought the whole time.

"What are you doing here?" she asked curtly, her gaze becoming even harsher with every passing second.

"I had my son," I blurted out, her eyes hardly changing in appearance. I tried to keep my confidence up as I continued. "I wanted to let you know... that regardless of the fact that you threw me out, everything went fine. We are _both_ fine."

My last statement coincided with the arrival of my father. He had come up behind my mother with the same expression on his face: disgust. It was not something I was truly accustomed to see on either of their faces, but I could hardly be surprised. He opened his mouth to speak, but his attention was drawn to something behind me. From the darkening of his expression, I knew that it had to be John and Logan.

"Do you want to meet your grandson?" I asked gently, my mother's attention too having shifted. She chuckled, muttering something even I couldn't hear under her breath.

"Of course not," she spat out, bringing her gaze back to my slightly startled irises. "You shouldn't have come back here."

I went to speak, but she stepped closer to me. Her intense stare burrowed into my core, making it hard to believe that this woman was my mother.

"You shouldn't have come back here," she said lowly, venom laced in every word. "You are nothing but a disappointment and need to leave."

I gasped and tried to keep the tears from falling. I wasn't going to let them have that satisfaction. I wasn't going to let them win. Trying to get my self-assurance back, I turned around. I saw John, now wearing a baseball cap shading his features, holding the bassinet. I shook my head. I couldn't see his eyes, but from his slow nod, figured that sympathy was prevalent. He carefully carried my son back up the stairs and disappeared.

"Who was that?" my father asked pointedly, as I turned back to face them. "Is he the bastard's father?"

I narrowed my eyes, sidestepped my mother and came to stand a few inches from my father. He didn't know of Logan's true paternity. Even though I was in a relationship with Brent, I never confirmed to my parents that he was responsible for my pregnancy. He might have forsaken me, but I did not want to cause him any harm.

"You are my father - not a very good one but my father nonetheless," I gritted out, my expression darkening with every word. "But I swear, if you _ever_ call my son a bastard again, I won't be held responsible for what I'll do."

"What could you do?" he replied through threatening laughter. "You whoring yourself out again? Is he one of your johns that you were able to con into pitying you?"

I just shook my head, no longer feeling any sadness over the loss of my family. If this was what I was missing - idle taunts and threats - it wasn't much. I spared them one last look before turning away.

"Something like that," I mumbled, slightly amused at the coincidence of my companion's given name. "Good-bye."

I heard my mother mutter something to my father, but paid them no heed. I continued to walk slowly down the pathway back toward the bus. I only faltered slightly when I heard the loud slam of the door behind me. I let out a deep breath, trying to put them out of my mind. I had tried to get closure. I hoped that it was enough; I couldn't be sure in the moment. It would be in the coming weeks that it would truly be determined.

I made it back on the bus, walking back into the main quarters to find John standing with an empathetic look on his face. I just shrugged, carefully falling back into the couch.

"Brent lives five blocks over," I said, gesturing to the west with my arm. "217 Second Street."

He nodded, wordlessly walking back toward the front of the bus. I looked over at my son's bassinet, once again securely docked to the bus. I sighed, closing my eyes and trying to fight the feelings that were threatening to consume me. Once I got Brent to sign the papers, I would be free of this town... free of this life. I didn't exactly know what I would do once I got to Tampa, but anything was better than this.

I felt the bus come to life, but kept my eyes closed. I thought over the good times Brent and I once shared. Sure, I wasn't sure that he was my true life partner. But he was my first love. I cared about him deeply and at the time of Logan's conception, could not think of my life without him. He was a part of me. Those feelings had withered greatly over time, but there was some love that still remained.

I felt the bus come to stop once more. I wasn't sure that I was prepared for this visit. Seeing my parents in such an embittered state had affected me more than I would ever let on. I wasn't expecting a happy reunion, but what had transpired was beyond anger. It was as if they truly were in disbelief for these past months, yet as soon as they saw a little evidence that I had a son... there wasn't anything I could do.

"Are you sure you want to do this now?"

I opened my eyes and blankly stared into John's concerned eyes. He must have been able to see how much that last visit took out of me. I sighed and looked out the window. The Williams' house beckoned me. I needed to finish this. Not just for myself, but for Logan. That was what I had to keep remembering - _this was all for Logan._

"I need those papers," I muttered, rising up to walk toward my son. I looked down upon him, reaffirming that he was what this was all about. He was asleep and I did not want to rouse him. I blew a kiss to him and turned away. John handed me a manila folder with the papers enclosed.

"This shouldn't take long," I whispered, brushing past him toward the bus's door.

"Take all the time you need," John replied.

I walked down the steps that were becoming quite familiar to me and cautiously stepped down onto the grass. I took in the row of houses, knowing that this may be the last time (at least for a while) that I would be around this recognizable setting. It was all a little too much to take in, especially as the moment of departure was creeping closer and closer.

My finger sought the doorbell as soon as I made it up the stoop. I wanted to get this visit over with as soon as I could. I waited impatiently, but there was no sound. I groaned before pounding on the door. I was beyond caring about anything but my son and our future. As my hand went up to strike the wood again, the door pulled open.

And for the first time in almost seven months, I was looking into the eyes of my first love.

He seemed surprised, yet unlike my parents, there was no abhorrence in his expression. Just shock. I waited to see if he would react vocally, but he seemed content to just stare.

"Your son was born two days ago," I said abruptly, my eyes falling away from his own. "I know your life is more important than his and you want nothing to do with him..."

"Chris, that's..."

"So sign these papers and we'll be gone forever," I continued, not heeding his interruption. I did not want to get lost in his gaze. I did not want to hear him say that he had a change of heart. He had his chance.

I risked a look up at his face and saw his eyes were drawn to the bus on the curb nearby. Confusion was etched on his brow, but soon it morphed into concern. That was one emotion I wasn't expecting. It was slightly refreshing, and I needed to remind myself that he wasn't going to be there for Logan.

"Is he okay?" he asked timidly, reaching out to try and take my hand. When I shifted backward, he thought better of his attempt. "Are you?"

"We're fine," I answered softly, holding back the liquid emotion that was threatening to escape my eyes.

"What's his name?" he asked, genuine interest held in his tone.

"Logan," I whispered, telling myself that I needed to end this visit soon.

I looked down and opened the folder. I pulled the pen from the front cover and handed it to him before passing him the papers. He looked down at them, skimming their contents before raising the pen to the paper. I honestly couldn't believe he was signing them.

I had thought he would want to have some discussion on the matter. He didn't know that they were not necessarily legally binding. In his mind, he was really signing away all rights to Logan. And he was doing it without any real contemplation. It was at that moment that I knew I was making the right choice.

I would always love Brent, but I was no longer _in love_ with him. _Not after this..._

He handed me the signed papers. I scanned them, a small smile lifting my lips when I saw the signatures on a few of the pages. I nodded, hooking the pen back on the folder. I turned and began to walk away, thinking that there was nothing left to say.

"I'm sorry."

I barely heard the whispered statement from my position a few paces away from the bottom of the house's stoop. I turned back around and watched as he walked down the steps and came to stand in front of me.

"About everything," he continued with much more confidence and strength. In that moment, I was reminded of what made me fall in love with him. Yet that feeling was quickly shattered. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"I'm not sorry," I replied with a resentful grin. "Logan is... he is my life. I've known him physically for nine months and can't wait to spend the rest of my life watching him grow. But... you know what? I am sorry, too. I'm sorry you weren't man enough to stand up to your parents... or to even put someone else above yourself. He was to be your son."

He looked as if he was going to speak, but his lips fell shut. I sighed, shaking my head but not surprised. I turned around and finished my trek back to the bus. The door was still ajar and walked up the first step.

"Can I see him?"

I turned back around and went to respond. But Brent's attention shifted and his eyes widened. I was curious. I looked over my shoulder and saw John on the step behind me.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" John asked, his eyes not straying from staring down Brent. "You've signed away your parental rights. Seeing Logan... well, it might change everything."

"You..." Brent started breathlessly. I looked at his eyes, still alight in... admiration? I turned back around and looked at John curiously. There was something about this man that I just hadn't figured out yet.

"I just want to look at him once," Brent finally stated, looking at John for permission instead of his longtime girlfriend. I was about to retort in irritation that control was slipping from my grasp, but Brent's gaze shifted to my own. He wordlessly pleaded with me and I knew that I would relent. He was responsible for giving me Logan after all.

"All right," I said, stepping down off of the bus's stairs. It took only a few moments before John emerged as well, bassinet in hand.

Brent strode over to stand in front of the carrier, peering down at the newborn son he would never know. He didn't say anything, a few tears making their way down his cheeks. Part of me wanted to console him, but the rational side won out. I just needed to keep telling myself that he had made his choice... and it wasn't Logan.

"Can you send me a picture of him?" Brent asked softly, as he tentatively reached out with a finger and stroked his son's cheek. "I won't try and contact you... I just... please?"

"Okay, I'll send one," I said, unsure if I would truly go through with the task. In this moment, with his tearstained cheeks, I just couldn't say no.

I watched as he glanced one last time at Logan. He turned to me, his hands reaching out to cup my cheeks. If I tried, I could pretend that it was a year ago; that we were still so very much in love. We were planning our futures - college, prospective careers. There was a lot of uncertainty, but we felt that we had each other.

Our _happily ever after_ crumbled before it even began.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead. I closed my eyes and willed myself not to be affected by his display of affection. I came here to put things in the past, not continually hope for a future that would never come. I was shocked when I felt the warm pressure of his lips on my own. My eyes shot open, but hastily he pulled back. I went to address his affection vocally, but he looked beyond me to the man at my side.

"This whole thing seems like a dream... a crazy, messed up dream," he said with a laugh. "I couldn't believe it when I saw you, but I'm glad that you somehow came into their life."

I looked toward Brent, unsure of what he meant by his comments. Was he talking about my pregnancy... or something else?

"What..."

"I'm a big fan," Brent continued, interrupting my query. His statement caused even more confusion to bubble up inside of me. "Whatever you are doing for her, thank you."

Brent reached out his hand. I looked to John and watched as he grasped Brent's outstretched hand, all the while being careful of his grasp on the bassinet. John nodded in Brent's direction before turning back toward the bus. I gaped openly after him, not even sparing Brent another glance.

"John, what was that all about?" I asked, as I followed him up the steps.

John didn't answer as he walked back inside and placed Logan back down. I waited for an answer that would quell all of my questions, but none came. Once Logan was secure, John turned back to me with a smile.

"Ready to go home?"

"You..." I stuttered, but didn't really know what to say.

Nothing made sense. Brent knew John in some way... he was a fan? I figured that John must have been some sort of entertainer. Maybe a sports star? He sure had the physique of one. No common person had a tour bus at his beck and call like John seemed to. Yet John appeared to not want to discuss it. I found that even more interesting.

I decided to drop the subject and just let him play his game. If I was going to get any edge over him, I needed to keep myself ingratiated to him. So, I just smiled, walked over, and sat down next to my son.

"Yeah. Let's go home."


End file.
